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I drained my drink and wrapped my fingers around the crook of his elbow, leading him down a hallway to a set of stairs usually only used by staff. We emerged just down the corridor from the exit, stealing out into the night without a soul being any the wiser.

Holden actually laughed as he climbed into the back seat of the waiting car beside me, the sound so warm and unlike him that for a second, I just stared. He arched an eyebrow at me. “What?”

“Nothing.” I burst out laughing then too, feeling like the weight of a hippopotamus had been lifted off my shoulders at the knowledge that he hadn’t been bad-mouthing me after all.

While my husband was still a complete enigma, I felt like we’d taken several big strides tonight, and because of that, I accepted a glass of celebratory champagne he handed over as the car pulled away from the curb.

Two more glasses of champagne deep by the time we got home, I was feeling blissfully relaxed and even Holden’s edges seemed to be smoothed over. He looked around when we walked in. “Where’s Tasha?”

I shrugged and kicked off my heels. “It’s a Saturday night. She’s never home on the weekend.”

Holden let out a low chuckle and tossed his tuxedo jacket onto the banister. “So we’re finally alone in the house, huh? I didn’t think that was ever going to happen.”

My eyes rolled. “We’ve been here alone plenty of times. You probably just don’t notice because you always storm straight to your room.”

He considered that for a beat, then shrugged and wandered into the living room instead. “That’s probably true.”

As he began to poke through the built-in bookshelves, I collapsed on one of the couches. Those shoes might’ve been comfortable in the store, but it turned out no heels had been made to wear for hours on end. Not even the pretty, seemingly soft ones.

I watched Holden look around until he suddenly reached for a dusty, leather-bound photo album on the bottom shelf. Panic flared deep inside and I almost told him to stop, but he’d been sleeping in my dad’s old office for the past couple of weeks. He’d obviously already seen the framed diplomas, the old fishing caps, and the faded family pictures I hadn’t been able to bring myself to tuck away yet.

Gently pulling back the worn leather cover of the album, he glanced at the picture on the front page and then looked back up at me. “Your parents seem so happy in every photo I’ve seen of them.”

“They were happy,” I said softly, speaking past the old, familiar ache rising in my throat. An hour ago, there was no way I would have told him anything about them, but now, that felt different. Like I could trust him with my truth in small measures too, just like he’d trusted me with a tiny part of his at the gala. “We used to have so much fun together. You’d probably never think it now, but once upon a time, I almost never stopped laughing.”

A surprisingly understanding, faraway sort of expression crossed his features before he nodded. “Yeah. I can relate.”

He shut the album again, his thumb tracing the embossed lettering on the cover. I didn’t need to see it to know what it said, Nettles Family Memories.

“What happened to them?” he asked quietly.

“A car accident,” I said. “I was sleeping over at my aunt and uncle’s that night with my cousins. It wasn’t even a special occasion, but it changed everything.”

Holden glanced back down at the album, then carefully returned it to its slot on the shelf. Once it was back in place, he walked over to me, eyes on mine as he hooked a finger in my direction. “Come here. Let’s get you out of that dress.”

My breathing hitched, but I stood, thankfully not stupid enough to think this was about anything other than him remembering the trouble I’d had with the zipper earlier and wanting to help me, but holy heck.

I turned around, my heart hammering frantically against my ribs as I presented him with my back. As I felt his long, warm fingers at the top of the zipper, the air suddenly seemed different, zinging with another intense charge that threatened to steal the air from my lungs.

It got worse when he didn’t rush, slowly guiding the zipper down and exposing my skin only a fraction of an inch at a time. When his knuckles slid lightly against a bare part of my spine, I trembled, gripping the fabric of my skirt to keep my hands from shaking.

He was standing a lot closer than he had earlier in my bedroom, his chest nearly brushing my shoulder blades and his warm breath ghosting across the back of my neck when he spoke.

“Do you need help with anything else, Alicia?”

He whispered the question, but it still sent a jolt of pure electricity through me. I let out a breathless, nervous laugh, trying to break the moment before I did something completely reckless, like turn around and throw my arms around his neck.

“No,” I said finally. “I’m think I’m okay, but if I change my mind, I’ll write you a list.”

Holden lingered in my space for one more heartbeat before he finally tore himself away, taking a big step back and allowing the air to return to my lungs. “Okay, then. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Holden.”

He turned and walked up the stairs, disappearing down the hall seconds later. While I meant to head to my bedroom too, I just brought a hand to my racing heart instead, unable to convince my feet to move just yet.

For what was supposed to be a business arrangement, tonight had felt extremely, deeply personal. I knew it was too early to be optimistic and that Holden was too volatile emotionally to believe he’d keep opening up and letting me in, but for the first time since we’d said our vows, I was starting to feel like they might actually grow to mean something one day.

CHAPTER 21